From Failing Hands We Throw
by CubbiesFan1
Summary: While visiting her mother in Brazil, Jessie Bannon falls into the hands of a group from her mother's past. Now Estella is forced to act in unimaginable ways to help save her daughter. Can Race and the rest of the Quest team save them in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest is owned by Hanna-Barbara. No money is being made from this story. It is simply by a fan for other fans.**

**Author's Notes: Thank you to Goddess Evie for taking the time to act as Beta Reader for me. Her help is always welcome!**

**Chapter 1**

As the blazing mid-day sun bore down on the site, Jessie Bannon stood up and stretched her weary muscles. Jessie was visiting her mother in Brazil for a month while also assisting on the latest archeological excavation. Glancing around the site, Jessie saw a variety of local workers digging alongside American college students working as interns., Jessie spied her mother, Estella Velasquez, a distance away speaking with the foreman.

Walking briskly across the site, but keeping conscious of not disturbing any of the site's dig areas, Jessie made her way over to her mother, who was just finishing a discussion of the latest guidance for the rest of the week's schedule with the foreman.

Estella smiled as her daughter came up to her side. "How's it going at your area, Jess?"

Jessie shrugged. "Alright, mom. We haven't discovered anything of significance today."

Estella nodded and shot her daughter an appreciative grin. "Such is the life of an archeologist, my dear."

Jessie nodded in agreement as she spoke. "I think I'm going to take a break and try to give dad a call on the satellite phone."

"Ok, dear."

At times, Estella found her mood to darken at the mention of her ex-husband, Race Bannon. However she also knew that Jessie missed him, as well as the Quests, dearly. She felt a slight pang of jealousy in her gut-this was her time after all with her daughter and yet Jessie always wanted to call back to Maine when they should be spending the time together.

Jessie must have sensed her mother's discomfort so she added, "I won't be long. I just want to say hello and see how things are." Estella noticed that her daughter made a conscious point to not say _'back home'. _"Jonny and Hadji are working on a new Quest World simulation and I'd like to get an update on it," Jessie added as an afterthought.

"Take your time, sweetheart. You've been working extremely hard these last couple of weeks. Tell everyone I said hello."

Jessie grinned at her mother's approval. "Thanks, mom. You're the best." , Jessie leaned forward and gave her mother a quick hug before running off to the worksite trailer.

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Ratko sat in his mobile command center, the air conditioning spewing out lukewarm air as it strained to compensate for the heat of not only the Brazilian summer, but also the small bank of communications equipment in the back of the van. He was waiting for a report from his two men in the field and his impatience festered as the temperature rose. He frowned, swearing in his native tongue under his breath.

"Where the hell are they?" he grunted, causing one of his men to glance in his direction. The other held his tongue, knowing his boss was not asking for his opinion.

As if on cue, the handset to the radio crackled. "Sir, this is Miko. Over."

Ratko grabbed the handset, practically ripping it from its holder on the side of the radio. "Report. Over."

"The target is alone. We can infiltrate in a matter of moments. She's headed to the trailer. Over."

"You're sure she's alone and no one else is in the trailer? Over."

"Yes, Sir. We've had direct line of sight on the trailer all morning. No one's inside. We can make the grab. Over."

"Proceed. Wait till she's inside then make your move. Over."

"Understood. Will report back when mission complete. Over."

"See that you do, Miko." Ratko swore he could hear the other man gulp nervously as he ended the conversation, placing the handset back in its cradle.

Ratko grinned. Everything was proceeding as planned. "Rasim, contact transport," he commanded, turning to the other man inside the van. "We move as soon as Miko and his team are back here with the package."

"Yes, sir."

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Estella was so consumed in her work that she didn't notice when more than an hour passed since Jessie said she was headed to the trailer to make her phone call. Glancing around the site, she couldn't spot her daughter anywhere. Estella dropped her tools and made her way towards her site foreman.

"Miguel, have you seen my daughter?"

"No, Senora, not since earlier."

"She went to make a phone call in the trailer."

"I have not seen her," Miguel replied.

Estella felt a nervous swell in her stomach. It wasn't like Jessie to wander off on her own- at least not when she wasn't with Jonny or Hadji. Since she'd arrived three weeks ago, Jessie had been punctual and driven. In fact she was usually the first one up and working when first light came and was the last one to leave the site for the evening. Knowing the lifestyle that Jessie led back with her father, Estella began to fear the worst as she quickened her pace to an almost full out run towards the trailer.

Reaching the trailer, Estella jerked the screen door so hard she thought it would come unhinged and leapt into the small workspace. No Jessie. Estella felt her heart beating faster in her chest. She leaned out of the trailer and yelled for Miguel.

The foreman rushed over at the distressed tone of his employer's voice. "Yes?"

"Gather the workers. Search the area for my daughter."

Miguel nodded. "Is something the matter?"

"She's missing," Estella croaked, her throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

Miguel must have noticed the look of fear on her face. He quickly turned and yelled out to his crew and the interns as he ran back toward the dig site.

Estella's legs shook and she had to brace herself against the closest desk. _'Where is she?' _she thought to herself as she scanned the small trailer for any sign of where her daughter may have gone. Her eyes fell on the satellite phone-the same phone Jessie said she had wanted to call home on. Gathering her senses, Estella picked up the phone and scrolled through the menu. She saw that no call had been placed from the phone at all that day. As she placed the phone back down, she tried to think of what Race would do, what he would see.

Estella scanned the trailer and noticed some files and a few small artifacts that had been unearthed in previous days scattered across the trailer floor. _'A sign of a struggle? But we didn't hear anything.'_

As Estella moved closer to where the a possible altercation may have taken place, her eyes fell on a plain white envelope with her name written in large block letters. As she attempted to control her breathing, she reached out for the envelope, seeing her hands visibly shake as she snatched the article off the counter.

Her eyes rested on her name for only a moment before she tore open the top of the envelope and pulled out the paper that was inside, unfolding it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she read the letter's message:

**Dr. Velasquez,**

**You know me. Even if you do not think you do. I have your daughter. If you wish to ever see her alive and in one whole piece again you will do exactly as I instruct. If you do not follow my instructions or you deviate from them in any way, the next time you see your daughter will be when you are attending her funeral. **

Estella's hands shook and she sat on the floor reading the words over and over again. She pulled out the second piece of paper from the envelope and read the instructions. Dropping the paper to the floor, she buried her head in her hands. She could not believe what was happening and what she was about to do.

She had no idea how long she was sitting there when she heard Miguel's voice call to her from the door of the trailer, "Senora, we have not found your daughter yet."

Estella looked up at the man, her trance broken. As she stood, she snatched the two pieces of paper and the envelope from where she had dropped them on the floor. "I know, Miguel. I have to go now."

"Senora?"

"I have to go. Now." Estella blurted out as she pushed past the man and headed towards the living quarters.

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

An excruciating pounding in her head woke Jessie. She opened her eyes and attempted to sit up and felt a wave of pain and nausea that forced her to keep still. She was lying on a hard metal slab, in a small dark room made of concrete. She stared at the ceiling as the pain and sickness in her stomach subsided then attempted to sit up once again, much slower this time. She scooted up into a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. Nothing but the dark cell and a door with no handle and a slit towards the top which Jessie guessed was for observation. As her headache began to lessen, she tried to recall how she had gotten into the cell, but the last thing she remembered was entering the trailer where the satellite phone was kept.

She had been kidnapped. However, she had no idea who had taken her or why. She thought about yelling out, but quickly realized that her captors more than likely would not do her the honor of introducing themselves and explaining, in detail, why she had been taken. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious or where she was being held. _'What would dad do in this situation?' _she thought and quickly came to the conclusion that her best course of action was to wait and gather as much information as possible from her captors when they made an appearance. _'Stay calm, Jess. I'm sure dad is already raising hell trying to find me,' _she reassured herself. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, suddenly realizing that it was quite cold in her cell and she was still wearing the clothes from the dig in Brazil.

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Estella arrived at the airport in Washington D.C., barely aware of the flight she had just departed from. She had followed the instructions in the letter and each step of her journey she was met with exactly what had been described. As she walked through the terminal she pulled the letter from her purse and read the next set of instructions.

**Take a taxi to the train station. Go to the long-term storage lockers. Open locker 142. It will be unlocked. Take the package out, place it in your purse, and take a taxi to the hotel address written on the package. You will check in under your own name. A reservation has already been made for you there. DO NOT open the package until you are inside your hotel room. Follow the instructions inside the package. You are being watched at all times. Deviate from the plan and you will receive a piece of your daughter in the next package. **

An hour later, Estella sat in the hotel room, reading the instructions from the package for perhaps the hundredth time. Perhaps she thought that if she continued to read the words on the page they would somehow change. They didn't. Setting the paper down on the dresser, she glanced at the clock in the dingy room. It read 7:30 P.M. It was time for the next step.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady her nerves and summon some small bit of courage, she reminded herself that what she had to do was for Jessie. Nothing else mattered. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror, the image that stared back at her was her own, but somehow she didn't feel like the same woman that less than forty-eight hours ago was happily spending quality time with her daughter. Now she was reduced to the reflection that stared back at her and she was disgusted by it.

"I have to do this. For Jessie," she stated out loud, as if hearing her own words would give her justification for her actions.

Estella turned from the mirror, grabbed her purse, and picked up the silenced and modified .32 semi-automatic handgun from the dresser. Without giving herself time to think, she shoved the pistol into her purse and strode out the door.

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Special Agent Philip Corbin of Intelligence One rubbed his eyes as he glanced at the clock on the wall of his office. A quarter past 8:00 P.M. Corbin had decided to work late on this particular Thursday evening so he could spend some quality time with his family. His eldest daughter, Marissa, had a volleyball tournament in Bethesda over the weekend and he was determined to be there to cheer her on.

He stood and stretched, then walked over to the coffee pot in the corner of his office. The aroma alone was enough to give him a little pep in his step, but he poured himself a cup anyway. Sitting back down behind his desk, he picked up the report he had been working on, and prepared to get it finalized and signed when the buzzer on his desk phone chirped.

"Sir, you have a visitor," Corbin's administrative assistant, Ms. Lisa Saunders, announced. Phil didn't require his assistant to work late whenever he did, however she was studying for the cryptology examination that was going to take place in a couple months, so she did not mind staying late sometimes. Since she offered to stay late when he did, he told her it was okay to use that time once she was done with her tasks to study.

He picked up the receiver on his phone. "At this hour? Who is it, Ms. Saunders?"

"Ms. Estella Velasquez, sir."

"Estella?" Corbin was a bit taken aback. "Send her in, Ms. Saunders."

A moment later his office door opened and Estella entered. Phil immediately noted how tired and worn out she looked. She clutched her purse in both her hands, as if letting go would cause something disastrous.

"Estella, this is an unexpected surprise," he said as he rose from his chair, gesturing for her to take a seat in one of the leather upholstered seats in front of his desk. Estella nodded and sat down.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I'm surprised you were still here," Estella said, barely looking at the man.

"It's alright. I've been working some late hours the past couple of weeks." Phil shook his head as he tried to ponder why Estella, whom he hadn't seen in probably a year, was now in his office at almost 8:30 at night. When he realized that she wasn't going to speak he decided to prompt her. "So, what can I do for you?" He didn't want to comment on her appearance at the moment.

Phil watched the woman intently as she pursed her lips , searching for the right words to say. "Phil, I-" she started, but stopped, glancing at the windows at the front of his office; the one facing his assistant's work area. Seeming to understand her discomfort, he got up and closed the blinds to the window, giving themsome privacy. He hoped that she didn't start crying.

"Is something that matter? Is Jessie okay?" He remembered Race mentioning something a couple months back about Jessie visiting her mother this summer. The fact that Jessie was not with Estella at the moment wasn't lost on the man.

Estella watched the I-1 agent sit down in the chair next to her, trying to make her feel a bit more at ease. She averted her eyes from him, _'He has no idea,_' she thought.

"No, Phil. She's not. That's why I'm here." Estella stammered, feeling hot tears well up in her eyes.

She saw a look of concern cross the man's face as he straightened his posture. "What's wrong? Have you talked to Race?"

"No!" Estella blurted out a bit too forcefully, causing Phil to flinch. "No, I can't. I can't tell him. I had to come here."

"Why?"

"Because that's what I was told."

Phil shook his head. She wasn't making any sense. "What do you mean? What's happened?"

Estella placed a hand across her mouth as she finally met the man's worried gaze. She had to stay strong. For Jessie. Remembering her instructions, Estella took a moment to compose herself in front of the agent before she asked, "Can I get a glass of water?"

Phil nodded and proceeded to the back of his office where he kept a small refrigerator filled with bottles of water.

Turning back towards the distraught woman, he noticed she now stood and was facing him. It didn't register at first what she was doing until he saw the small pistol in her hand. The fact that it had a sound suppressor attached to the end and that she currently had it pointed at his chest was not a welcoming sign.

Instinctively he raised his hands in the air, dropping the bottle of water. "What the hell are you doing, Estella?" he asked dumbfounded.

The woman that answered him was not the same as the one that had walked into his office only minutes before on the verge of tears. Estella was calm and cool. He could tell she was still upset, but a steely determination had settled into her eyes. Glancing at the pistol in her hands, Phil saw that the safety was off. _'This is not good,'_ he thought as he waited for the red-haired woman to make her next move.

"I need information from you, Phil," Estella stated matter-of-factly. Her voice was cold.

"Well, you don't have to point a gun at me for that," He said without moving from where he stood.

"Shut up," Estella growled. "Now, are you armed?"

Phil shook his head. "I don't wear a weapon in my office. Never saw a need for it." He added the last part with a bit of sarcasm.

"Where is it?"

"What?"

"Your gun!" Estella spat.

Phil cocked his head towards his desk. "Top left drawer. Estella, what's going on? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I have to. For Jessie," she said as she moved toward his desk. She never lowered her weapon. As she reached his desk she saw the picture of his family. She felt a slight tug on her heart as she looked at the photo of Phil with his wife and two daughters. They were all smiling and happy. She tried to remember the last time she was in a picture like that with Jessie and Roger.

"Estella, please. Put the gun down," Phil said, watching her intently. "Yes, that's my family. You remember them? I have children. Why would you do this to them?"

"I have to," she said as she opened the drawer and saw his service weapon, verifying he was telling the truth.

Phil was starting to get angry and he let that anger get the best of him. "What the hell, Estella? You come here, point a gun at me, and then make demands? Who do you think you are?" He dropped his hands and took a step towards her.

Estella took a step back and leveled the gun towards his chest. "Stop!"

Phil stopped in his tracks.

"I need information and then I'm gone," Estella said. "Phil, please." The last was spoken as a plea.

"Put the gun down and I'll help you get your daughter back however I can."

Estella shook her head vigorously. "No, it has to be like this."

"Why?"

"Because they'll kill her if I don't follow their instructions to the letter!"

Phil sighed, but did not respond right off. "What do you want from me?"

"I need your files on Yuri Delic. All of them."

Phil was actually shocked at the request, to the point his response was purely instinctual. "What?"

"You heard me!" Estella motioned with the gun for him to move to the desk and his computer.

Phil obeyed. He felt Estella's presence directly behind him and as if to affirm his feeling he felt the muzzle of the suppressor pressed into the back of his neck as soon as he sat down. "Estella…" He started but she pressed the weapon harder into his flesh.

"Just do it. Print out all you have."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I have information on Delic, but…"

"But what?"

Phil could tell she was getting impatient. "Delic is dead, Estella."

He heard her gasp, but she quickly regained her composure. "You're lying."

"I'm not." He said as he worked the I-1 files, quickly pulling up the dossier on Yuri Delic. The file showed a picture of a man and next to the picture informational records, including his date of death.

"Estella, if you think Delic is making you do this, you're wrong. He's dead. He was killed in a Bosnian prison three years ago."

"Print out the file."

Phil complied and the printer next to his desk whirred to life. "Now stand up."

He did as she said again and slowly turned towards her. "Estella, just let me help you. I know this case. I knew Delic when…" he stopped.

"When what?" Estella demanded.

Phil shook his head. "No more. I'm done, Estella. Take the files and just go."

"No. I have to do as they say."

At that moment Phil realized that she was serious. A determined mother would do anything to protect her child, even kill. His eyes drifted towards the drawer where his weapon was. He had to take the chance, but as he lunged Estella saw his move and reacted.

The gun went off.

Estella was almost as shocked that she had squeezed the trigger as the man she had just shot. She watched as the bullet hit Agent Corbin in the upper chest area, spinning him around and causing him to knock over his monitor from the desk. Estella watched as his body slid to the carpet. She felt as if she was watching from the outside, as if it wasn't her that had just gunned down an unarmed man in his own office.

Her head spinning, she stepped around the desk and glanced at the door. Nothing happened. Corbin's assistant must not have heard the commotion. Estella exhaled and grabbed the documents from the printer. She found an empty folder and placed the documents inside. It wasn't till she was about to close the folder and place it in her purse that she realized there was blood on some of the pages. It made her stomach lurch.

Estella inhaled and exhaled a number of times, trying to steady her nerves. She felt like she was going to vomit. Her next step was making it out of the building. As she took a step towards the door she heard a groan from behind the desk. Worry flashed in her mind. _Follow the instructions to the letter! _She stepped back over and saw the pool of blood forming under Phil's body, but he was moving.

"I'm sorry, Phil," she said. "Please forgive me."

She fired two more bullets into the man's back.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Quest Compound, Maine

Dr. Benton Quest was already awake and finishing his breakfast when he heard the phone ring. Curiosity as to who would be calling so early arose in his mind almost immediately when he considered that it was just past 5 A.M. Passing through the kitchen into the expansive living room, he felt the presence of his son's dog Bandit following behind him. Bandit whined at the scientist when the pooch realized that the man was leaving the kitchen without providing a bowl of kibble for the little dog.

"It's okay, boy," Dr. Quest said to the dog as he took the phone from the cradle. "Be patient."

Bandit huffed and trotted back to the kitchen.

"Hello?" Dr. Quest said into the receiver.

"Sorry to disturb you so early, Doctor Quest," The voice on the other line stated directly.

"It's alright." Dr. Quest replied, "Who am I speaking to?"

"Sir, my name is Agent Callahan. I'm with Intelligence One and I was calling to speak with Agent Bannon."

"May I inquire as to what this about, Agent?" Dr. Quest said as he made his way towards the stairs that led to Race's room.

Hesitation on the other end of the phone set Dr. Quest a bit on edge, "I'm sorry, Doctor. But I was told to speak with Agent Bannon concerning an event that took place here in D.C. last night."

"What event is that, Agent?" Dr. Quest asked as he knocked on the bedroom door of his bodyguard. A moment later a bleary eyed Race cracked the door open.

"Ah," the young agent started, "A shooting. Sir, is Agent Bannon available?"

"A shooting?" Dr. Quest repeated, causing Race to motion for the phone. Before the Agent on the other end of the line had time to respond, Benton handed the phone to Race and shrugged.

Race went immediately into high-alert mode as he spoke, "This is Race Bannon. What shooting are you talking about?"

Speaking to the infamous Race Bannon must have flustered the young Agent and he stammered, "Sir, I was directed to call you and inform you that you need to report to D.C. immediately."

"What's this about? I don't take orders from just any I-1 Agent that calls this house," Race said sternly. "Who directed you to call here?"

"Special Agent Simpson, Sir."

Benton saw a look of confusion cross his bodyguard's face, however since he could no longer hear the other side of the conversation he wasn't sure what had been said to make Race react in such a manner.

"Special Agent Simpson?" Race covered the bottom of the phone with his hand and spoke softly to Benton. "Simpson is second in command at I-1."

Benton nodded, "I'll go get the boys up and moving," and headed down the hall.

"What's your name?" Race asked the man on the other end of the line.

The answer came with a bit of annoyance, "Agent Callahan, Sir. I'm fairly new. I was told you need to report immediately. That's all."

"Understood, Agent Callahan. We are on our way, but may I ask, why is SA Simpson telling you to call and not Director Corbin?"

Silence at the other end of the line made Race think that the other agent may have hung up, but he could still hear breathing.

"Sir, that's what this is about. I don't know all the details; no one does at this point."

Race felt his face flush hot with anger. He hated getting the runaround. "Spit it out, Callahan," Race barked as he began opening dresser drawers, throwing clothes to pack onto his bed.

"Director Corbin was shot last night."

Race froze. "Shot? Where? By whom?"

"Sir, you need to report immediately," Callahan stated once again and then hung up.

"Damn!" Race spat as he threw the phone down onto his bed.

Benton was back in the threshold of the bedroom. "What's going on, Race?"

"Get packed, Benton. We're heading to D.C. Someone shot Corbin last night."

Race heard the older man inhale.

"Any details?"

Race shook his head as he grabbed a suitcase from his closet. "Of course not. That's what happens when some low level field agent calls. Tells you just enough to get you worked up and nothing else."

Benton hesitated before turning away, but then asked, "Is he dead?"

Race stopped and looked at the older man. "I have no idea."

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Once the pain in Jessie's head finally subsided to nothing more than a low drumming against the inside of her skull, her stomach announced that it was empty. Not knowing how long it had been since she was kidnapped and not yet seeing or hearing from her captors, both anger and fear surfaced in her mind. The isolation of the small, dark, cramped room made her desperation even worse. She moved off the bunk and to the heavy steel door and banged as hard as she could. When there was no answer she banged harder, continuing to bang her fist against the metal until her hand was numb.

"Hey," she cried out, "let me out of here."

Still no answer.

"Let me out of here now and I promise my dad won't hurt you too bad!" she shouted and then continued to bang on the door with her other fist.

Either the shouts or the banging, or perhaps both were enough to annoy her captors and within minutes Jessie heard heavy footsteps on the far side of the door. A moment later the viewing slit opened and Jessie recoiled from the sudden, albeit small, amount of light that suddenly entered the room.

"Quiet down!" the man on spat.

Jessie noticed he had a thick accent, probably Eastern European. Jessie cataloged the information in her mind, perhaps the first clue as to solving the identity of her captors and why they had taken her.

Thinking quickly, she decided to play into the role of the helpless, scared girl, "I'm sorry," she replied meekly, "but I'm hungry."

"I do not care."

"Please, can you please bring me something to eat and some water? I'll be quiet after that, I promise."

The man appeared to be contemplating her request. "Be quiet. I'll see what I can do."

Jessie didn't have time to respond before the man closed the slit, cutting off the little source of light she had savored. "Well at least I know I'm not alone. Please hurry up, daddy," She whimpered as she went and sat back down on the metal slab she had for a bed.

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A black SUV awaited Race and the Quests when they arrived at the airport in D.C. The driver identified himself as Agent Callahan and Race was taken aback by how young the man looked. As Callahan loaded the luggage into the back of the vehicle, Race climbed into the front passenger seat as Benton, Jonny, and Hadji got into the back of the vehicle. Once Callahan got in and pulled away from the curb, Race flooded the young agent with a slew of questions.

"What's going on, Callahan? What happened? How did it happen? Is there a suspect?"

Callahan sighed, "I'm taking you to the hospital. You'll be filled in on the details at that time."

"Is Director Corbin dead?" Hadji asked from the back seat.

Callahan shook his head and Benton noticed Race's posture slack in relief. "He made it out of surgery about an hour ago. That's all I really know."

Benton asked, "What's his condition?"

Callahan shrugged. "Stable, but they're watching him closely. He lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go for a while from what I've been told."

Jonny was the next to speak. "So any idea who did it?"

Callahan remained silent.

"Well?" Race stated with an authoritative tone in his voice that the other agent could not ignore.

"You'll be briefed when we get to the hospital." Callahan replied, never taking his eyes off the road.

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Estella woke to find herself curled on the crusty bathroom floor. She grimaced as she realized she must have passed out once returning to the hotel. She was being forced to do things she would never contemplate doing, but she kept trying to remind herself that she had to in order to protect Jessie. The thought brought her little comfort though.

The instructions from the earlier package told her to return to the hotel and await further instructions. She looked at her watch, 6:02 A.M. She had heard nothing from her tormentors since she had returned. A thought entered her mind: perhaps there was no point to what she had done. Perhaps her captors had just used her to kill SA Corbin and they never intended to give Jessie back. Flooded with a new sense of dread, Estella leaned back over the toilet and heaved. Her body was exhausted. After she returned to the hotel she had broken down in tears, crying herself to the point of being physically ill. She had thrown up for almost an hour and then passed out.

After the latest fit of dry heaves, Estella slowly pulled herself up off of the floor. Washing her face in the dirty sink, she glanced up in the mirror. She was dismayed by her reflection; she had aged at least ten years over the course of a couple days. Dark circles and red eyes were evidence of her night of crying and sickness. She was tired and exhausted and her nerves were frayed to the point where she thought she was going to shut down.

Moving out of the bathroom, she sat down on the edge of one of the beds. Memories from the night before flooded her head; she relived the episode in her mind over and over and felt like she was about to break out into tears again. She thought that the memories would be hazy, unclear, but they were as vivid and haunting. She remembered how scared she had felt, how disgusted she was with herself when she lied to the man that offered to help. The first shot. The weight of the gun as it bucked in her hand when she fired. And the blood. She hadn't thought that such a small weapon could do what it did, but it did. She remember standing over him and shooting him two more times and the relief she felt that as she committed that final act to end his life that he was face down on his stomach, so she did not have look at his face as she killed him.

Biting her lip, she held back her tears and a moment later a warm coppery liquid touched her tongue and she realized she had been biting her lip so hard that she was bleeding. It reminded her of the blood from the man she had shot. How it pooled around his body. She couldn't believe what she had done, the monster these people had turned her in to. Not only had she killed a man, she killed a man she knew. A man with a family of his own. She took from Corbin's loved ones what these evil people had taken from her. She felt no better than those responsible for taking Jessie. Part of her mind tried to justify the actions, saying it was what had to be done for Jessie, but it was the other part that tore at Estella's heart. When she had walked in Corbin's office last night she was there to kill him. She manipulated him when all he tried to do was help. She should have put the gun down and told him everything; instead she had played right into the hands of the men holding Jessie and done exactly what they wanted. And now Philip Corbin, a man that would have done anything to help her rescue Jessie, a man that would have used every resource at his disposable, was dead.

Estella had killed him in cold blood.

Having worked for Intelligence One in the past, Estella knew that all of D.C. would be looking for her and the men directing her actions must have known as well. They had made Estella their patsy. Suddenly realizing that she was checked into the hotel under her own name and that she would be tracked, she started to panic. Rising from the bed her eyes darted frantically around the room, not sure what to do. _'I wish Race was here now. He'd know what to do,'_ Estella thought. Her head on a swivel and mind racing with hundreds of dreadful outcomes, she almost didn't notice that someone had just slipped a plain manila envelope under her door. Her eyes fell on the dreadful package and she was frozen, terrified to open it and see what her next horrible assignment would be.

Letting out a deep breath, Estella gingerly moved and picked up the package, took it back to the bed. Tearing the top open, she dumped the contents onto the bed. "For Jessie." She reassured herself out loud. "For Jessie."

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Race burst through the hospital doors at a furious pace. It infuriated him that he wasn't being told anything about what had happened to his superior. "Race," Jonny said as he quickened his pace to keep up with his white-haired mentor, "they probably don't know anything either."

"Bullshit," Race growled, not even realizing he had just sworn at a teenager. "Its' the Government. Don't tell me they don't know."

The group turned the corner and at the far end of the hall on the right a group of men and women were gathered. "Well it appears we are about to find out," Hadji stated in his no nonsense way.

Jonny gave his brother a quick nod and hurried along. Reaching the group of I-1 agents, Race was met with angry, even hateful looks. _'What's going on?'_ he thought.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here, Bannon," A tall, muscular black man in a dark suit said. His Alpha Male persona forced him to speak for the group.

"What are you talking about, Jenkins. SA Simpson called me here."

"How is Director Corbin?" Dr. Quest asked, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air.

Jenkins ignored Benton and leered in Agent Callahan's direction. "What did you tell them?"

Callahan shook his head. "Nothing more than I was told to tell them, Sir."

"That's right," Race stated, "So why don't you tell me?"

Hadji watched the exchange between the two men. He could not understand why they were being kept in the dark at this point now that they were here at the hospital.

"Agent Callahan said he made it out of surgery, so how is he?" Dr. Quest asked again.

Jenkins snorted as he locked gazes with Race again. "Lucky for you, Bannon, he's alright…for now."

"Lucky for me?" Race's face twisted with confusion and anger. "If you've got something to say to me, Jenkins, say it."

Jenkins took a step forward in an attempt to assert his dominance over the other agent. As he was about to speak, the door behind them opened.

"What's going on out here?"

Two men exited the hospital room and Benton noticed an immediate change in the demeanor of the agents that stood in allegiance with Jenkins. They shifted nervously, but Jenkins still held Race's gaze.

"Get out of here, Agent Jenkins," the elder man that had exited the room stated. His voice demanded obedience. "Take your people and go get some coffee."

Jenkins stared at Race for a few more seconds before turning away and looking at the man that had ordered him to leave. "Yes, Sir. Just not sure if I can trust this man, Bannon, at this point. He shouldn't be here."

"That's not a decision for you to make."

"Come on, Jenkins," said one of the other agents, who had been silent up until that point, "let's go get some coffee."

As Jenkins turned to leave he glared back at Race, a stare that could have cut through stone. "Fucking babysitter," Jenkins mumbled, but loud enough for Race, Benton, and the boys to hear. With that he and the other left the area.

The Quest clan was alone now except for the two men that had exited the hospital room and a distraught young woman on one of the hard plastic seats. Jonny noticed her for the first time since they had arrived and wondered who she was.

"Don't mind Jenkins," the older man stated once the entourage was gone. "He, like the rest of us, is wound up pretty tight with emotions."

Race nodded and shook the man's hand. "Good to see you again, Sir. I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances." Race turned to Benton. "Benton, you remember Phil's father, Colonel Corbin?"

Benton shook the man's hand. "Yes, it's been a long time, Colonel."

The man shook his head. "I'm retired. You can drop the rank. It's just Brian now."

Benton nodded. "These are my boys, Jonny and Hadji."

The elder Corbin nodded. "Been a long time, gentlemen." He shook each other their hands.

The second man that had come out of the room introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. He said he was there to offer any help in any way the BAU could. Race nodded and then added, "Thanks, but you look a lot…"

Hotchner's cracked a slight smile. "Yes, I know. Phil is my cousin. Another reason I'm here offering whatever help I can."

"How is he?" Benton asked, hoping that these men would give him the answer finally.

"He's asleep. That's why we came out here when we heard the commotion," Aaron stated.

"He's been in and out of wakefulness since coming out of surgery," Brian answered. "He's doped up on a load of pain medications right now. Not sure he has any idea where he is let alone what's going on. His mother is in there with him as well as Sarah and the kids."

Race nodded. "How did this happen?"

"Well, lucky for Phil your ex isn't a very good shot," Aaron replied. "She managed not to hit any vital organs or arteries. The first shot fractured his collarbone though as the bullet exited."

Race and the others stared at the two men in shock. "What do you mean? My ex?" Race stammered.

Hotchner and Brian exchanged shocked glances, and Hotchner said, "You haven't been told?"

"Obviously not!" Jonny declared.

They all sat down in the hard plastic chairs, forming a crude semi-circle in front of the door. Brian walked over to the young woman that was still sitting by herself and whispered something in her ear, causing her to glance at the others, nod, and join the group.

"This is Ms. Saunders, Phil's assistant. She was there last night when it happened," Brian said as he offered the young lady a seat with the group.

"Perhaps we should start at the beginning," Brian started. "Ms. Saunders can provide as much information as she knows."

The young woman nodded. Race observed her mannerisms and saw how genuinely upset she was. He guessed she had found Corbin after the shooting.

Ms. Saunders cleared her throat, trying to compose herself before speaking. After a few moments she began. "It was a little after eight, last night. Director Corbin was working late so he could spend some time with his family this weekend. I was working on some modules for an examination. A few other people were around, but not many. Most people are gone for the evening by then." She glanced at the group and continued, "Well, this woman entered my office and asked to see him. If I had known…" she turned towards Phil's father pleading. The older man patted her hand in a fatherly manner.

"It's alright, Lisa. You had no way of knowing."

The statement appeared to reassure the woman and she continued. "She said her name was Estella Velasquez. So I ringed into his office and he said to show her in. About ten minutes later she left. She even was talking as she walked out his office door, you know, saying thank you for seeing her so late or something like that. How could she do that? Knowing what she had done?"

Hotchner spoke, "Probably part of the ruse to not alert you to anything being amiss."

"Did you not hear anything at all?" Hadji asked the young woman.

She shook her head. "No. I did notice the blinds were closed, but he sometimes closes them when he is working on something that is classified. I figured that was the case this time as well. But I didn't hear anything." She looked away, somewhat ashamed. "You see, I was listening to music on my headphones."

"What?" Race exclaimed causing the woman to jump.

"Director Corbin told me it was okay to do so when I worked late. It helps me concentrate on my studies," She said in a sheepish, but defensive tone.

"It's okay, dear," Brian said, shooting Race an unhappy look. "Again, you didn't know what was happening."

"Well, the woman left and I didn't hear anything from Director Corbin. Earlier he had told me he was hoping to finish up by 8:30 or so. It was about 8:45 when I knocked on his door to see if he had anything else for me before I went home. When he didn't answer I opened the door and saw…" She started tearing up.

"Please, go on if you can," Benton said in a sincere tone.

"The first thing I saw was that some things were on the floor. The monitor for his computer and some files. Then the rest just hit me all at once. That's when I saw him lying on the carpet…there was blood everywhere. I rushed over to him and he was still breathing, but very lightly. I ran out into the hallway, screamed for help and called 911. A few other agents arrived, saw the scene, and I managed to say something about the woman, and they ran off."

She looked at her hands before continuing, "There was so much blood. I tried to press down on his wounds, you know, to stop the bleeding. I don't know if it helped at all. It seemed like eternity until paramedics arrived and took over."

She looked at Phil's father. "I'm so sorry, Sir. I wish I could have stopped her."

He shook his head; again Race saw the genuine comforting look in the man's features. "You did all you could. Trying to stop the bleeding probably slowed it down enough to save his life. You did just as you should have, Lisa." She nodded. "You should go home and try to get some rest. We'll call you when his condition changes."

The woman nodded and stood. SSA Hotchner stood and fished his phone from his suit jacket pocket. "I'll have one of my team members take you home. They'll get your car from I-1 and take it to your house later." He led the woman away from the group down the hall.

Seeing the FBI agent pull out his cell phone made Race jump and do the same.

"Race what are you doing?" Jonny asked.

"Calling Estella. This can't be true. It just can't be."

"Sit down, Race," Brian ordered. "We've already tried to contact her and no luck. I don't think she's going to answer her phone any time soon."

"You don't understand, sir. My daughter Jessie is with her."

The retired Colonel shook his head. "There was no report of her. All reports indicted Estella was alone when she shot my son."

Benton placed a hand on Race's arm, prompting the man to sit. Then he turned his attention back to Brian. "So, how do we know it was Estella? It could have been someone using her name."

"Phil wouldn't let just anybody into his office at that time of night. And he would have immediately been on alert if someone entered that was using her name and it wasn't her that appeared. No, Doctor, I believe it was her. I-1 is going through the surveillance footage as well to verify."

"This doesn't make any sense," Jonny announced. "Why would Estella do something like this? And where's Jessie?"

"That's what we have to find out," Race declared. "Is there anything else?" Race said as Hotchner reappeared.

"Not now," Hotchner stated dryly.

"Can we see him?"

Brian shook his head. "No. Like I said, he's still recovering. And honestly, Mr. Bannon, you're probably the last person those women in there want to see walk through that door."

Race couldn't argue with the man's logic. Its seemed all of Washington, D.C. was ready to hold him responsible for gunning Corbin down as if he had done the deed himself.

"So what now?" Jonny asked, his anxiety growing as it became clear that Jessie was missing and there was more to what was going on than an attempted murder of a federal agent. His concern for Jessie was growing and knowing her tenacity and aggressiveness Jonny hoped that Jessie wasn't in a position to be harmed. He thought of all the times in the past when they were in danger, captured by one bad guy, held at gunpoint by another, and he realized that when they were together they always came out on the winning end. But now Jessie was alone and needed their help.

"Some of my team is at I-1 headquarters now, going over the crime scene," Hotchner said.

"Your team?" Benton asked.

"FBI handles domestic cases, Doctor," Hotchner replied. "And especially since Phil's my cousin I'm taking this personally. Of course we are working hand in hand with I-1, but they are focusing on the international ties. My people are trying to track down Ms. Velasquez. We are working on the assumption that she is in hiding somewhere in or near the capital."

"International ties?" Race asked.

"I'll have my team brief you on the way to I-1 headquarters. No better place to start than the crime scene, agreed?" Hotchner said. "I'm going to stay here, check on Phil to see if he's awake. I'll meet you over there."

"Let's go then," Jonny said. "Jessie's counting on us!" As an afterthought he added, "And so is Estella."

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Sir, we have a problem," Miko stated as he strode into the small room that served as his team's command center.

Ratko raised his eyes from the text he was reading and glared at the young man. "What problem?"

"According to our men in D.C. the I-1 agent survived."

Ratko slammed the book closed, causing Miko the flinch. "What? How could that happen?"

Miko shrugged as he answered, "She didn't follow the instructions. I supposed she assumed he was dead when she left."

"You suppose?" Ratko rumbled under his breath.

Miko shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other and would not look his boss in the eyes. "I did say…"

"You said what exactly, Miko?" Ratko pressed. He stood and moved next to the other man, inches from his face.

"I…Ratko, I told you using the woman was a bad idea," Miko stammered.

"Oh yes you did, didn't you, Miko? You know what's best now don't you?" Ratko was furious, but managed to keep his anger in check. After all, Miko was right, but Ratko wouldn't admit that to his underlings.

"Ratko, please, that's not what I meant," Miko said as he gingerly raised his gaze to meet Ratko's eyes. "It is obvious now that the woman wasn't up to the task. To continue to use her could prove disastrous."

"What do you suggest? Eliminating her? We still need the girl."

Miko didn't have any answers.

Ratko turned away from his man and paced the small room, his hands clasped knowingly together behind his back. "We can still use the woman."

Miko was visibly surprised. "How?"

"First, we need the paperwork she obtained from intelligence One. Once we have that in hand, we'll know the next step."

"Should we send someone to finish the job that the woman botched?" Miko asked, regaining some of his courage.

Ratko waved the question off with a flick of his wrist as he turned back to his compatriot. "No. It's not worth it at this point. Eliminating Agent Corbin was not really necessary to the plan to begin with. It was just…fun." Ratko grinned.

Miko smiled. His superior's sadistic pleasures were what drew Miko to the man. It helped him survive in the Bosnian prison and gaining Ratko's trust was key in Miko's escape as well. Without Ratko, Miko would either be dead or still rotting away in that hellhole in the Serbian countryside.

"What about the woman then? We've already moved her from the hotel to a secondary location."

Ratko pondered for a moment before answering. "We must stick to our convictions. Our 'anger' at her failure to kill the agent needs to be addressed and used to retain our grip on her psyche."

"How do you want our men to proceed?"

"Put another package together for delivery. Include a disposable cell. I want to talk to her when she opens the package."

"Why?" Miko asked out of curiosity.

"To break her." Ratko grinned evilly and let out a sinister laugh. "Miko…"

"Yes?"

"Go get the girl."

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Jonny took in the scene with explorative eyes. The office of the Director of Intelligence One was spacious, but at the moment it was crowded with agents from both I-1 and the FBI as they conducted their crime scene analysis. They had arrived at the building only moments before and were escorted unceremoniously to the office. Jonny could feel the tension in the air and felt a sense of pity for his bodyguard, Race Bannon, who was catching a lot of angry looks from his fellow agents as they made their way down the halls of the federal building.

Standing at the threshold of the office, Jonny watched as two men, one from the FBI and one from I-1, noticed the group and came over. Race extended his hand to the older man. "Sir, sorry to have to report under these circumstances."

SA Simpson nodded. "What news from the hospital?"

Race shook his head. "Well, Corbin survived, but that's all we know. His father wouldn't let us see him."

Simpson took in the information and continued. "Well, we won't know what really happened until he wakes up."

"Or till we catch the shooter," The FBI agent said.

Race felt like the man hit him in the gut with those word. "And you are?" he asked.

"SSA Derek Morgan. I work with SSA Hotchner at the FBI's BAU."

"May we have a look around?" Hadji asked the two men that currently stood between them and the crime scene.

Agent Morgan was a tad perplexed that two teenagers were at the scene and gave the I-1 agent a look. Simpson nodded and said, "Its okay. The Quests are well…a unique group." He shot a smile at Benton.

Morgan shook his head and walked away.

"Sorry, these FBI guys don't really understand how things operate around here," Simpson said. "However, I'm not sure what all you can tell from here that we don't already know."

"Maybe a fresh set of eyes can reveal something hidden," Hadji replied.

The group entered the room and took in the scene. Race's investigative skills were alert and tingling. He approached Agent Morgan and asked, "So what do we know?"

"From the looks of the scene it appears he was set up."

"What do you mean?" Benton asked.

Another FBI agent came over to the group; Morgan introduced him as Doctor Spencer Reid. Reid smiled and addressed Doctor Quest. "Doctor Quest, this is truly an honor to meet you in person. I attended your lecture on Quantum Physics at Georgetown last year and I must say…"

"Reid!" Morgan cut him off.

Benton smiled at the young man's enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that Doctor Quest was greeted by an admirer so young.

Reid mumbled, "Sorry. Just a bit of hero worship."

"It's alright. Perhaps when this is all over we can talk a bit more on the subject from the Georgetown lecture."

Reid's face lit up and he nodded vigorously. "Sounds great. Anyways, as to what Agent Morgan said, we think that Agent Corbin was set up."

"Again, how do you know that?" Jonny asked.

"We know that Ms. Velasquez came into the room and was visibly distraught. Ms. Saunder's already confirmed that. Probably in an attempt to make her feel at ease, Agent Corbin closed the blinds." Reid pointed towards the far end of the room where a water bottle lay unopened. "It looks like he must have retrieved a bottle of water for her and when his back was turned she produced the weapon, catching him off guard."

"Do we know how she got into the building?" Jonny asked.

"Fraudulent security badge. But the strange thing is, it was in her name."

Race took the information as he carefully stepped towards Corbin's desk. The blood on the carpet was almost dry and there were splatters of blood on the desk.

"Looks like she used a suppressed .32," Morgan added as he came over and stood next to Race. "We found three shell casings near the desk where he was found. Forensics thinks he was shot once while standing and then the last two straight down from above. She shot him in the back as he lay helpless on the floor."

"So she pulled the gun on him over there," Jonny surmised, "but shot him over by the desk. Why?"

"She had to pull the gun when his back was turned to take him my surprise. No way could she have controlled him any other way," Benton suggested. "Corbin's a strong man so the only way she could get him to do what she wanted was to threaten him with a gun. He would have easily subdued her if she had tried to attack him any other way."

"Our tech analyst is working with I-1 to get access to his computer now," Morgan said. "Why do you think she did it, Agent Bannon?"

Race rubbed his chin. "Call me, Race. And like you said, she set him up, but she wouldn't do this on her own. Estella is not a killer. And even if she was, she would have shot him when his back was turned. No, she wasn't here just to kill him; she needed something from him as well."

"Ummm…." Reid started.

"What I mean is she has no reason to do this, unless…" Race felt that tug of worry in his stomach and once again pulled out his cell to try and call Jessie. The number went straight to voicemail.

"What are you thinking?" Morgan asked.

"Her hand was forced. She was ordered to do this."

Morgan glanced at his fellow FBI agent. "There's no evidence of involvement of anyone other than her. Who are you trying to call?"

"My daughter. She's missing as well."

Jonny caught on to what Race was saying and felt his heart sink. The only reason Estella would try to kill Corbin is to protect Jessie. But protect her from what?

"So you think someone has your daughter and is manipulating your ex-wife to kill?" Reid asked.

"You got a better explanation?" Race retorted.

Reid shook his head, unperturbed by the roughness in Race's tone. "No. When was the last time you spoke to either of them?"

"A couple days ago. Jessie called from Brazil. She was down there with her mother assisting on a dig."

"Do you know where exactly?"

"Amazon Stonehenge, in the North."

Morgan pulled his phone and placed a call to the FBI tech analyst. "Hey, Baby Girl. I need you to work your magic."

"Anything for my Sugar Bear."

"You're on speaker Garcia," Morgan said, smiling as he shook his head. "Can you access satellite imagery from the last seventy-two hours over the Amazon Stonehenge ruins in Brazil?"

"Anything for you, my sweet. What am I looking for?"

"Anything involving the group working an excavation at that site. A young girl and her mother went missing from there."

"The same woman that shot Hotch's cousin?" Garcia asked. The sound of her typing furiously away on her keyboard could be heard filling in as background noise.

"We believe so. This is deeper than just a simple attempted murder. Looks like it could involve outside sources and possibly even kidnapping."

"Got it."

"How's it going with getting access to his computer?" Morgan asked.

"Sweetie, there's a reason I work for the FBI and not Intelligence One," Garcia replied.

"Huh?"

"I never could hack the system. I mean, I-1's network security protocols are massive. Super intense. That super awesome, genius scientist Doctor Benton Quest and his kids built it! I mean can you believe that an agency like Intelligence One is using security protocols built by teenagers?"

"Well, thank you, young lady," Dr. Quest said into the speaker.

"What? Who's that?" The woman on the other end gasped.

"Doctor Benton Quest," He replied.

"Oh my god," Garcia blurted.

"I know, right!" Reid threw in like a giddy child.

"Morgan, you are so dead. You didn't say anything about him being there! Oh god."

Morgan was grinning from ear to ear. "It's alright, Baby Girl. Just get me those images."

"Call you back," Garcia said quickly and hung up.

"So," Benton said, "what else do we know?"

The team glanced around. The crime scene was pretty straight-forward. "Oh, Agent Corbin's service weapon was still in his desk drawer," Reid added.

"What does that tell us?" Hadji asked.

"That he didn't feel threatened enough to pull it when he saw Ms. Velasquez enter. It also confirms that she set him up, played some sort of ruse on him, probably involving your daughter."

"But it might not have been a ruse at all," Jonny said, somewhat flustered how the FBI agents still seemed to assume that Estella acted alone.

Benton added, "It also means that whoever sent her here knew that information as well."

"Didn't she used to work for this agency?" Morgan asked.

"That was over a decade ago," Race defended. "She wouldn't know his habits like that."

"Well someone did," Hadji stated. "And whoever that someone is it appears that is the person that sent Estella here."

Race's phone rang and he quickly snatched it from his pocket, hoping it was Jessie calling him back. "Hello?"

It wasn't.

Race listened to the other line and said, "Okay, we're on our way," and hung up.

"That was your boss," Race told the FBI profilers. "He said Phil is awake so we're heading back there to talk to him."

Morgan and Reid nodded.

"We'll let you know when our tech finds the images from Brazil. If you can, ask Agent Corbin if he remembers what he was doing on the computer. If you're right and Estella was sent here to gain information we need to know what that information was," Morgan said dryly.

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Jessie contemplated eating the last hunk of stale bread the guard had brought her. On one hand she was starving and needed the energy, but on the other she had no idea how long she was going to be trapped and if the guard would bring her anything to eat again in the near future. She set the bread down on the bunk and just as she did she heard footsteps stop in front of the door.

Jessie blinked against the light as the eye slit in the door opened.

"Turn around and face the wall," the guard ordered.

Jessie did as instructed, knowing she was too weak to rush the guard if he opened the door.

"Do not move." the guard said.

Jessie heard the loud metallic clank as the door to her prison was unlocked and opened. Instinctually she started to turn her head to try and catch a glimpse of the man, but a rough hand was on the back of her neck almost immediately.

"I said not to move," The man growled in her ears.

Jessie caught a whiff of his breath and gagged. He stank like garlic and cigarettes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," Jessie replied, but was ignored.

The guard slipped a dark bag over her head and then handcuffed her hands behind her back. Any hope she had mustered for a possible escape attempt drained from her body as she felt the cuffs slapped onto her wrists.

"Keep your mouth shut," The guard instructed and with a firm, almost painful grip on her shoulder he maneuvered her out of the cell.

Jessie willed herself to remain calm, recalling to mind the meditation techniques that Hadji had taught her. As her pounding heart slowed and her breathing calmed she attempted to take in her surroundings using the senses that were still available to her.

The hallway smelled musty, with a strange hint of something that Jessie thought could be salt water. She started counting her footsteps as well so she could determine the distance between her cell and wherever she was being taken; it could prove useful if she found a chance to escape. As they walked further down the hall she could hear noises growing louder; rough voices laughing and arguing, but in a foreign language .

As she took all this information in and cataloged it into her mind, the guard pulled her to a stop and then she heard a door directly in front of her open. The sounds of the men were much louder and she deduced they were inside the room she was being led into. The voices did not lower so she assumed whoever the men were, they were unconcerned by her presence.

After ten steps the guard stopped her and pushed her down into a metal chair. He then quickly and efficiently un-cuffed one of her hands and then attached the cuff to the chair. The hood was pulled from her head and Jessie immediately squinted against the influx of light.

Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced around at her surroundings. The men she had heard laughing were off to her left, seated around a table playing some sort of card game. She could see what looked like money on the table and rifles leaned up against the wall. The men smoked and drank and ignored her. She also noticed an old television next to their table on a stand. An old Top Cat cartoon was playing, but again the voices of the characters on the screen were not ones which she could understand.

Turning her head to the right, she saw a man staring at her. He was calm and had an evil smirk on his face. His arms crossed over his burly chest, he stared at her intently to the point that Jessie felt even more uncomfortable than she already was and she turned away.

"Ah, what is the matter, little girl?" The man asked. His English was good, but with a strong accent.

"Why are you holding me?" Jessie asked.

"I need you," the man replied.

"My dad is going to find you and he's going to kill you," Jessie blurted defiantly.

The man laughed as did the men at the table. Their confidence was overwhelming. "I do not think so…Ponchita."

Jessie blinked as she heard the man speak her childhood nickname her father had given her Even the thought that this deranged man that had taken her hostage knew such an intimate detail about her made Jessie ill. She bit back the sour taste that rose in the back of her throat and asked, "What do you want from me?"

The man walked over and crouched down in front of Jessie. He smelled of cologne and sweat. She noticed all the other men had stopped their conversations and were watching the exchange. The only sound was Top Cat as he teased Officer Charlie Dibble in some foreign tongue.

"Please, if you let me go now…"

"I am not going to let you go until your mother does what she is supposed to do."

Jessie's face twisted in confusion. "My mother?"

The man nodded. "And right now she needs some persuasion." Jessie watched as he reached behind his back and pulled out a large, glistening knife, the grin on his face that of pure evil.

"Please…"

"Don't worry, Ponchita. If you don't struggle, it won't hurt. At least not too much." He stood and moved next to the girl.

To Be Continued….


End file.
